


Past/Present/Future

by ithinkwehitametaphor



Category: Two One, Two/One
Genre: Cancer, F/M, Slow Burn, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithinkwehitametaphor/pseuds/ithinkwehitametaphor
Summary: "You take the second bag of groceries out of the trunk and balance it in your arms.Big snowflakes fall relentlessly from the sky. They soak your hair and the paper bags as you stand in the parking space in front of a row of small houses.You're desperately trying to fish the car keys out of your jeans pocket but of course your woolen gloves get stuck on the stupid keychain. When you eventually free your hand, the keys fall right into the slush on the ground.Thud.Goddammit. After eight years in California you had almost forgotten how annoying Canadian winters could be.“Need help with that?”There’s something distinctly familiar about the man’s voice and when you turn around, it only takes you about half a second to recognize him.Kaden.Yes, you were bound to run into him sooner or later but you would have preferred it to be later."Guess, I do."He bends down to pick up the keys and when he looks back at you, his lips curve into a smile. You can see the pang of recognition in the clear blue eyes while they hold your gaze."
Relationships: Kaden / Reader, Kaden / You, Kaden / female reader, Kaden Russell / Reader, Kaden Russell / You, Kaden Russell / female reader





	1. Chapter 1

“My life I have still to live; her life ended when mine began.”  
– Mary Antin, _The Promised Land_

You take the second bag of groceries out of the trunk and balance it in your arms.  
Big snowflakes fall relentlessly from the sky. They soak your hair and the paper bags as you stand in the parking space in front of a row of small houses.

You're desperately trying to fish the car keys out of your jeans pocket but of course your woolen gloves get stuck on the stupid keychain. When you eventually free your hand, the keys fall right into the slush on the ground.  
 _Thud_.

 _Goddammit_. After eight years in California you had almost forgotten how annoying Canadian winters could be.

“Need help with that?”

There’s something distinctly familiar about the man’s voice and when you turn around, it only takes you about half a second to recognize him.

 _Kaden_.

Yes, you were bound to run into him sooner or later but you would have preferred it to be later.

"Guess, I do."

He bends down to pick up the keys and when he looks back at you, his lips curve into a smile. You can see the pang of recognition in the clear blue eyes while they hold your gaze.

“Anouk? Anouk Ahonen? Didn’t think I’d ever see _you_ back in these parts.”

“Gilbert. Ever since the accident I go by Gilbert again,” you reply curtly.

Kaden scratches the mop of tousled blond hair under his knitted hat and gives you an apologetic look. “Ah yes. Sorry. Didn’t know that.”

He presses the button on the car key and the vehicle locks itself with a beep.

“Here, let me take one of those bags, too,” he offers.

You unceremoniously dump half the groceries into Kaden’s arms and slowly walk towards the houses with him. Feeling that you have to say _some_ thing at least, you add, “I only came back because mom needs my help.”

“I heard she’s not that well. I used to see her now and then… but not anymore.”

“She doesn’t get out much these days.”

The snow crunches under your boots as the two of you trudge on. You wish your mother’s house weren’t the last one on the row because every second you spend in Kaden’s presence threatens to bring back memories you’re not exactly keen on.

“That’s my stop,” you say and nod at your front door.  
“You, err, you still got the keys.”

“Oh. Of course.”

Kaden hands over the paper bag and opens the door for you. He leaves the key in the lock, then moves out of the way to let you through.

“It was nice seeing you,” he says. The smile has returned to his face.

All you can muster, though, is a weak “Thanks for helping.”

You grab the keys in passing and give the door a swift kick with your boot. It clangs shut behind you; the glass window pane makes a strained noise.

As you drop the wet grocery bags on the counter, you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.  
 _Fuck_. It’s only day two and you already feel like packing up and going into full flight mode. But you can’t. Mom needs you here. There is nobody else who could take care of her since your father left 5 years ago.

“Anouk? Are you back?”  
Her voice rings out from upstairs.

You take a deep breath and brace yourself. Perhaps it’s time to face the past head on?

“Yes, mom! I’m coming!”

The next time you see Kaden is a Tuesday morning at 7:30 am. It’s still dark outside and you are hard at work, brushing the snow from your car and de-icing the windshield.

He steps into the pale yellow light from the streetlamp close-by and waves. There’s a training bag slung over his shoulder and his grin indicates no little amusement of all your huffing and puffing and frantic scratching.

“Hey!”

You give him a brief look-over then continue to hack away at the ice. “Hey.”

“Out so early?”

“Actually, I’m already late,” you snap.

Kaden pulls an ice scraper out of his pocket and waves it at you. “I’ll do the other side of the car if you don’t mind.”

As much as you’d like to tell him no, you can’t. The appointment at the hospital is important and you mustn’t be late.

By the time you’ve finished your side, you find Kaden has already worked his way around to you and de-iced the rear window.

“Maybe you should think about getting a cover for the windshield at least,” he says and lets the scraper disappear in his jacket again.

“Maybe I should.” You face him and cross your arms over your chest. “Why are you doing this anyways?”

He frowns. “Do what?”

You wave your arms at him, gesturing about. “This. This being helpful schtick.”

“Seriously?” The smile on his face vanishes.

Kaden rolls his eyes at you. “Because you looked like you could use some help? Again. Because we’ve known each other since we went to school? Or perhaps because we spent countless winters at ski jumping camp together but I haven’t heard from you in nearly a decade? You take your pick, Anouk. You take your pick.”

It’s the way he says your name out loud that makes you wince. _Fuck_. You look down at the snow-capped tips of your boots.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, still evading his gaze. “It’s a bad day. A bad week. I have to get my mom to the hospital for her appointment and I underestimated how long it can take to clear snow and ice off a car out here. Shit.”

A gloved hand falls gently on your shoulder. “Your mom’s that sick, huh? She never said anything.”

You gnaw on your lower lip, nodding. “She broke an arm a few months back. It didn’t heal properly and the doctors eventually found bone cancer. I have to drive her to chemotherapy on Tuesday and Friday mornings.”

When your eyes meet Kaden’s, the anger has dissipated and his brow is furrowed in concern.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It is what it is,” you whisper.

“Do you need help with your mom? I mean, can she walk to the car?”

“She can walk. And she doesn’t like people to see her ‘like this.’” You draw quotation marks in the air with your fingers to emphasize this is her point of view.

Kaden’s hand slides down your arm and he holds on to your elbow. When you turn your head ever so slightly to look where he touches you, he quickly pulls away.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he says and lifts his training bag from the ground to hoist it over his shoulder.  
He turns around to go but then hesitates a moment longer.

“If you ever want to catch up or need help, you know where to find me.”

“Mhm.”

Twice a week now you make sure you mother shows up for her doctor’s appointment on time. And twice a week you find your car free of snow and ice in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

“A girl calls and asks, “Does it hurt very much to die?”  
“Well, sweetheart,” I tell her, “yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living.”  
– Chuck Palahniuk, _Survivor_

Initially, you had no intention of taking Kaden up on his offer to chat but as his game of “secretly” helping out with the car has been going on for a couple of weeks now, you realize you have to acknowledge his presence eventually.  
Besides, your mother has started to ask questions. Why are you not inviting him over? Why don’t you say thank you? It’s the least you could do.  
If you have the choice between discussing the issue with her in detail and actually enjoying a cup of coffee with Kaden, you might prefer the latter. You can try to keep it brief and maybe the nagging at home will stop then.

So one fine Tuesday afternoon you find yourself a few doors down in front of Kaden’s house, uncertain whether you made the right decision but resolved to go through with it.

  
You balance a plate of homemade chocolate cake in one hand and ring the doorbell with the other.

  
After a little while, rustling can be heard from the inside, footsteps follow, and Kaden opens.

  
The second he sees you, there’s that smile again. It has so much genuine delight about it that it makes your cheeks burn and your stomach cramp at the same time.  
You uneasily shift your weight from one leg to the other and clear your throat.

“Um. Hi.”

“Hi.”

Kaden bites his lower lip, barely able to contain his mirth at your discomfort.

_Eh_. He’s still his old self, both mischievous and charming.

The combination didn’t have much of an effect on you anymore after you had met your husband. But seeing him just as playful and cheeky now, brings back memories of a time before Matti, memories of school trips and ski camp trainings, of laughter and successes.

A moment of awkward silence passes until you pull yourself out of your thoughts and offer the plate to Kaden.

“I brought cake.”

“So. Are you coming inside to eat with me or is this a doorstep delivery?”

He scratches his shoulder and gives you an innocent look.

Inevitably, your eyes follow the movement of his hands and come to rest on the gold chain around his neck. God, he’s still wearing that, too.

“It can be whatever you prefer,” you reply. “I am not averse to cake. This much definitely hasn’t changed.”

“Come on in already, living room is, well, right there.”

Kaden opens the door wide and points to your left over a railing that separates the entrance area from the rest of the room. He takes the plate out of your hands and disappears quickly into what you take to be the kitchen, leaving you no choice but to follow him inside.

You get rid of your boots in the hallway and dump your jacket and scarf over the railing before taking the few steps up into the living space.

There’s a mirror over a little dresser right in front of you and it’s decked in VIP badges from all the sports events Kaden has participated in. You can’t help it and stare at the place names; you’ve been to many of these yourself one time or another.

On the dresser are some of Kaden’s ski jumping trophies and you reach out to absent-mindedly let your fingers glide over the smooth, gold-colored metal.  
Somewhere in a storage unit not far away from here there’s a box with Matti’s trophies, maybe one or two of your own as well. You can’t even remember anymore. Or prefer not to. After his accident, you threw a lot of things out and never took a closer look at the rest again.

“Coffee?”  
Kaden looks at you from where he stands in the kitchen doorway and you quickly pull your hand back.

“Yes, please.”

You manage to pry your eyes away from the badges on the mirror and amble over to the sofa where you shove a gaming controller out of the way so you can sit down.

A few moments later Kaden re-appears, carrying a tray with cake and two cups of coffee. He places it on the couch table in front of you.

“Sorry, about the mess.” He gestures towards the gaming console and a bunch of magazines strewn about on the floor. “Didn’t expect company.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Coffee black, no sugar?”

You nod and take the cup out of his hands. “Thanks.”  
 _Why does he even remember that?_

The porcelain is warm under your fingers and you lean back into the safety of the sofa cushions.

Kaden seats himself next to you. “What changed your mind and made you come here?”

Glancing at him from behind your cup you shrug. “Resignation.”

“You’re not even joking are you?”

“Nope. You wore me down fair and square.”

“Mhm,” he stuffs a piece of cake in his mouth and chews.  
“I heard you’re a writer now.”

You watch Kaden eat, jaw working, his face relaxed as he enjoys the food.

“Who told on me?” you ask and reach out for the plate with your own slice.

He sniggers. “My mother. When I said I met you in the parking lot the other day, she came running from the living room with a book. Your picture was on the inside of the jacket.”

Kaden briefly rummages among the magazines on the floor and holds up a novel.

Yes, that’s yours, you’d recognize that cover anywhere. And there’s a bookmark peaking out about half-way through, too.

“You read that old thing?” There’s a hint of anguish in your voice.

He shrugs. “Yeah, why not. I’m not that much into crime novels but I thought the setting was interesting.”

“Hm. The sports world was the only thing I knew. So I thought, why not spice it up with a bit of crime?”

“Do Canadian winters spiced with murder sell well in California?”

You are tempted to elbow him in the side but stop yourself short.  
“Yes, in fact, they do. Well enough for me to be offered to write a whole series of crime novels.”

A spoonful of chocolate cake disappears into your mouth.

“There’s more?” Kaden whistles through his teeth.

“Yeah. This one’s the first. I – it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“You mean because we’re all clearly making an appearance in it? The whole gang from back in the day.”

“I guess.” Unwilling to say more about it you wash the food down with a swig of bitter coffee.

From the corner of your eyes you can see him look at you, one brow raised. Then his lips turn back into a soft smile.

“It’s a trip down memory lane. I like it.”

You nod, point towards the game controller. “I see you changed professions, too.”

Kaden snorts. “Ass.”

“Still jumping then?” you mutter.

“Sure. On my way to qualify for Sapporo. Gonna show them what I’m made of one last time.” His voice is full of confidence. There’s a sort of fight in it you know only too well and it makes you shiver.

_Shit._ You can’t talk about this. Won’t talk about this. You’re done with World Cups and trophies and sports competitions.  
Your jaw clenches and you briefly close your eyes. The mug in your hand starts to shake so you have to put it back down on the couch table.

And before you know it, Kaden offers you a way out.

“Do you want to play? Just a little bit? Like old times.” He grabs the controller from the floor and waves it at you. “Come oooon.”

You roll your eyes at him.  
In truth, you’re thankful for the distraction.

“Seriously?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Fine. But only for a bit. I have to go back home and prepare dinner. Mom’s still down from the medication and I promised to make some broth from scratch. It’s the only thing she likes and can keep down.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back home in time.”

Kaden presses the power button on the console and TV; the game comes to life. It’s some sort of downhill skiing simulation as you take from the loading screen and that involuntarily makes you snortle.

“What?! What’s so funny?”

“You train all day – you go out in the cold, the snow, for your jumps – and then you come back home to ski some more virtual snow in the virtual cold?”

“Yes! Okay. Maybe I am a bit fixated on winter sports. So what? Hm?”  
Kaden crosses his arms over his chest and gives you a most ridiculous mock-pout.

You’re laughing out loud by now.

“Pffff. I bet you’ll stop making fun of me when I win against you.”

“I highly doubt that,” you press out and wipe a tear from your eye. “Not you winning. The part about me ever not making fun of you.”

Kaden beams at you. He’s proud, you realize. Proud he got you out of your funk there for a second.

“Alright. Show me how this works,” you say. “This is definitely nothing like the computer games we used to play.”

Oh dear. You really do suck at this. The last time you played anything was probably that dumb golf game on your friend’s Wii about 5 years ago when you were both bored half to death.  
It’s definitely fun, though, even if you mess up and Kaden keeps laughing at you. Maybe it’s fun exactly because he’s laughing so much. It’s infectious.

Then your phone beeps. It’s the ringtone you use for your mom. _Damn._ You put the controller down and look at the message.

“Shit. I have to go!”

“Hm? So soon?” Kaden looks up from the game and hits the pause button.

“It’s mom. She woke up sick. It’s those damn infusions. I really have to go.”

“Sure! Of course.” He nods. “I understand.”

His blue eyes are full of worry all of a sudden as he follows you to the door where you pull on your boots and slip into your jacket.

“Wait a sec,” he says, “I’ll get your plate from the kitchen. I think there’s still some cake left.”

You shake your head no. “Keep it.”

Already half way out the door you turn around to face him one last time.

“You bring the plate over some other day. Yes?”


	3. Chapter 3

“The Deconstruction has begun /  
Time for me to fall apart /  
And if you think that it was rough /  
I tell you nothing changes /  
Till you start to break it down /  
And break apart.”  
– The Eels, _The Deconstruction_

You kick off your boots and place them on the old rag your mom has insisted on using for this exact purpose since you were a child. Your feet slip seamlessly into a pair of house shoes while you hang up your coat on the hook reserved just for you.

“Mom, I’m back!” you call. “They didn’t have the raspberry yogurt you like so much so I—“ 

When you enter the combined kitchen and living room area, you immediately fall silent.  
Instead of finding your mother propped up on the couch reading like you have left her, you almost bump into Kaden.  
  


“There you are Anouk! We were waiting for you!” your mom chirps from the back of the room where she has fixed a cup of coffee for herself and her guest.

You stare at Kaden as if he were a ghost. 

“Sorry,” he mouths at you.

“Kaden was nice enough to bring back our plate. He thanked _me_ for the cake. So I had to tell him that the baking was all your doing!”

Your mom is on a roll and there’s no stopping her but you only hear half of what she prattles on about at best.

“So what were you saying about the yogurt, honey?”

You blink. “What?” 

“The yogurt. What about it? You didn’t finish your sentence.”

“Yes. That. I brought some other flavors for you to try because they were out of your favorite.”

Kaden silently offers to take the bag of groceries from you and puts it down on the counter. 

“Thanks for the coffee Mrs. G. but I think I better get going soon. I still have training.”

“Ah well, now that Anouk is here, I can excuse myself for just a second. You wait right here, Kaden, yes? Please, it’s only going to take a moment. Then you can buzz off.”  
Your mother’s laughter is crystal clear and rings out through the entire room.

In passing, she pats Kaden’s arm and gives you a smile of the kind you haven’t seen from her in days. 

As soon as she is out of earshot Kaden turns towards you.

“If I’d known you weren’t home, I wouldn’t have come. I wanted to call but didn’t have your number. I tried to excuse myself but she didn’t want to let me go without coming inside first.” 

“It’s fine. I was just… surprised. I swear an hour ago she could barely get up from the couch.”

Kaden shrugs. “I have that effect on some women.”

“Oh shut up.” You bump him in the shoulder. “I think she’s just happy to see someone who’s not me.”

His blue eyes hold your gaze for a moment. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. _I’m_ happy to see you.”

“Hm.” You quickly look away, unwilling to engage in this kind of conversation with him.

And then your mother is back. She comes walking into the kitchen area, two books in her hands.  
It’s nice to see her so enthusiastic about a little surprise visit. You have to admit that.

“Here,” she says and hands the books over to Kaden. “If you liked the first one, you’ll love numbers two and three. I promise. The third in the series is my personal favorite.”

You look up from the small piece of paper you were just scribbling on and roll your eyes at her. “MOM. Don’t force him to read my novels. Please.” 

“I’m not forcing anyone to read anything. He said he enjoyed the first one! Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes mam.” Kaden nods and gives your mom a conspiratorial wink.  
“But now I better get going.”

As you follow him to the front door, the tension in your body eases a little. You hate being under scrutiny from two people at once. 

“Listen, you really don’t have to read these if you don’t want to,” you say softly, pointing to the novels. 

Kaden smiles. “What if I’d like to read them?”

“Then don’t tell me about it because **_I_** don’t want to have to die of embarrassment.” 

“Oh please,” he chuckles. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your mom calls from the living room and you gently push Kaden towards the door.  
“I have to go back, see what mom wants.” There’s a brief pause.

“Here.” You hold the note you just wrote out to him. “That’s my number. So you can call next time.”

The visit has cheered your mother up, and even if she was a bit exhausted afterwards, you now double your efforts to encourage her to see her closest friends.  
But she always brings up the same excuses why she can’t. More often than not you end up fighting, making it worse.

“Nobody cares if you’re in sweat pants mom. They’re your friends. They come for _you_ , not the fashion.”

“But my hair… No. I don’t want them to see me like this.” 

It’s tiring although you understand well that she is scared and ashamed.

“We could buy you a wig if you don’t like wearing a head scarf. I’m sure we can find something nice. Something that looks more like your natural hair.”

“I’m not wearing a wig! I’ll not be one of those ridiculous old ladies with fake hair! I don’t want them to think I am sick.”

“You _are_ sick. Mom, please.”

The daily discussions and the increasing visibility of your mother’s declining health drain all energy from you. 

The doctors say it’s not looking too good. She may not recover. Yet your mother still refuses to see her friends.

You lie awake in bed at night, completely exhausted but unable to sleep.  
It’s at three am in the complete darkness that the past comes back to you. It weighs on you like an oppressive blanket, choking the air out of your chest, constricting your throat.

The snowy mountains outside your window loom even in the blackness of night. You don’t see a thing but you know they’re there. They make you think about ski jumping which in turn makes you think about Matti. The accident. Sirens, an ambulance. You’re under the scrutiny of a hundred spectators. The doctors are by your husband’s side instantly. Barely a minute has passed since he fell out of the sky but he dies right there in the goddamn snow anyways. He leaves you. Not like he said he would but worse. You don’t know how to deal. So you turn away from everything you’ve known.  
Out of spite and out of fear you move to a place that doesn’t even know what snow is.

Now you’re back. Death is back.

You reach out for your phone on the night stand and switch it on. The blue light hurts your eyes for a second.

Last week, right after he had left, Kaden wrote you a message.

[Hey. Here’s my number. In case you need help with anything, call me. :)]

You have been staring at these few sentences almost every night, yet never responded. What would you even say to him? It’s been such a long time. It was a conscious choice to stay away from this place and its people to protect yourself.  
You feel you don’t have the right to throw your convoluted problems on anybody else’s doorstep, especially not his.

Eventually, you put the phone away and drift into a fitful sleep.

Meanwhile, a few houses down the road, Kaden sits at the kitchen table and traces the spider web of cracks on the broken screen of his phone with one finger.-

He only needed to get a glass of water. Now he’s thinking about you instead. How he can’t leave you be. How he always comes back to the mystery of you ever since he found out that you’re back.  
But three am is not the time to start a conversation. Is it. Maybe tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

“Each time you happen to me all over again.”  
– Edith Wharton, _The Age of Innocence_

“I need some space. I’ll be back for dinner,” you say and storm out of the living room.

“Anouk, please. Don’t be like that!” 

“No mom. I’m not doing this anymore. You told Clara she could come over for a cup of coffee and now you’re either going to call her yourself to cancel or you’ll meet her.” 

You mother scurries after you into the hallway where you already pull on your boots.

“Please. You’re being dramatic, Anouk. Just call her for me.”

“No, I won’t. And I’m not being dramatic. I’m fed up. If you don’t feel well or changed your mind that’s fine. But I’m not going to un-invite a friend for you. You are perfectly capable of doing that yourself.”

Your mother keeps pleading with you nevertheless. “She’ll ask why and nag me until I give in! You know how she is! She won’t question you.”

“I said, no.”

You grab your scarf and jacket from the coat rack and wrap yourself up in them.

“If something is wrong you can call me. But I need some alone time. And you’ll respect that for the next two or three hours at least.”

You never hear your mother’s reply because the front door claps shut behind you.  
Hot tears stream from your eyes, blur your vision as you run towards the parking lot. Somehow you manage to find your car keys in your coat pocket and hastily unlock the doors.

For a while you just sit in the driver’s seat with your face in your hands and sob. It takes a few minutes before the tension eases a little. You draw a deep breath, wipe away the tears.  
It’s all just too much. Too much pressure. Not for the first time in the past few weeks you wish you were back in California.  
  


A knock on the car window startles you. At first you fear it might be your mother.  
It’s not.  
It’s Kaden. 

_Shit._

You roll down the window and glower at him. 

“Hey,” he says and leans closer, looking inside the car. “I thought it was you in there.” 

“Don’t you have a home?” You sniffle, rubbing snot off your nose with your sleeve.

“Actually, I do.” Kaden points back towards the row of houses. “Funny thing, you know. I think it’s quite close to yours. Guess that’s why I keep running into you.” 

You just stare him down, lips pursed shut.

He smiles back politely. “Move over.” 

“What?”

Kaden makes a shooing gesture with one hand and repeats his request. “Move over into the passenger’s seat.”

“Why would I do that? It’s my car,” you snort and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah. It is. But you’re not driving it with the state you’re in.”

“Excuse me!? And who says I even want to go places? Maybe I’m fine right here in the parking lot.”  
That’s nonsense of course. You are not fine. Especially not in a cold car, crying your eyes out more or less in public. 

“ _I_ want to go places. Once you find out where to, you’ll want to come along. Trust me.”

You gnaw on your lower lip. Give in to him or stay, risking that you mother might find you? Or worse. You could even run into Clara! 

“Okay. But if you drag me somewhere dumb, I’m going to complain the whole time.”

You glare at Kaden once more before scrambling over into the passenger’s seat.

He gets into the car with and holds out one gloved hand. “Keys, please.” 

You drop them into his palm. “This better be good.” 

“Uh-hu.”

The car starts and within the minute you’re on the road towards town. Thank the stars. At least he’s not taking you to that cursed ski jumping hill because that would be in the other direction. 

“So where are we going? Or is that a secret?”

Kaden grins. “Take a guess.”

His fingers tap a rhythm on the steering wheel and he looks much too happy for your taste.

“The airport. So we can elope to L.A.”

“Nope. Would you even want that? Elope with me?” His little chuckles come out as bursts of foggy breath and he cranks up the heater.

“No. But I’d really like to get back home. One more fight with my mother and I’ll explode.”  
You turn away from Kaden to look out of the window at the snow laden trees passing by. 

“Ouch.”

“How about a hint?” you mutter.

“We’ve been there before many times.” 

You stay silent, thinking.

“When coach thought it was a good idea to put us on a healthy diet…” he adds. 

You give Kaden a sideways glance. “That place still exists!?”

“Sure does.”

“Pizza still any good?” 

He nods. “Yep.”

“You’re really taking me to Vito’s pizza place?”

“Mhm. Or would you rather like to go back now?”

This is a no brainer. “I don’t want to go back. I want to eat a giant pizza with lots of extra toppings.”

“I thought we get our fix and do it like old times. Drive out to the plateau to eat in the car. Top secret. Yeah?” 

Kaden gives you a hopeful look, then focuses back on the road.

“Yes. Okay.” 

Not that you would ever admit it but this the nicest thing anybody has done for you in weeks. Well, that and de-icing the car – which was also him.

“How long did you watch me sit in the car before you came up with that?”

“Five minutes maybe,” he admits. “So you had a fight with your mom?”

“Yes. Something silly, really. I think I just need some time away from her. It’s not healthy being cooped up in that house 24/7.” 

“Yeah.”

The car turns right on Main and neatly swerves into the lot in front of the pizza place.

“Wow. They re-painted the front of the building,” you remark.

“Did that a few years ago but still kept the old “Vito’s” sign. I think his son is actually running the place now,” Kaden informs you.

You crane your neck to get a glimpse of the old neon sign shining in the afternoon twilight.

“Do you want to come inside? Or should I get the pizza?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” You take a look into the rearview mirror and press two fingers on the puffed-up swellings under your yes.

“I look like shit. You go get the food.”

“You don’t.” Kaden’s voice is almost soft now. “What do you want to eat?”

“Do they still have the special with the hot peppers and extra cheese?”  
Oh, just the thought of it makes your mouth water.

“They do. You stay right here, I’ll hunt for the pizza. You like a drink with that?” 

“A Coke. If we do a nostalgic pizza sit-in, we’re going to do it properly.”

Kaden beams at you and his smile tugs at something in your chest that you has buried away for far too long. You can’t help but mirror the expression.

“Thank you.”

After about 15 minutes Kaden comes back with a family size pizza and two Cokes. He dumps the edibles in your lap and steers the car to a little plateau that overlooks part of town.

The place hasn’t changed much in the last fifteen years, the asphalt is still cracked and patchy, the underbrush still littered with trash.

“Oh dear. It’s like in one of those old teen movies up here, isn’t it?” you say with a chuckle.

Kaden kills the engine and leans back in the driver’s seat. “Yeah. Only that we always came here to secretly eat pizza instead of making out.”

You sniff the air in anticipation, watching while he opens the cardboard box.  
The smell of cheese, salami and pepperoni is in your nose immediately, the promise of a delicious indulgence.

“Here. Ladies first,” Kaden says and hands you a slice of pizza on a paper napkin.

You carefully blow on the food to cool it down.

“Fuck, that looks so good.”

The first bite is even better than you remember, savory and aromatic. It reminds you of easier times.  
And so you happily munch on your treat while Kaden opens the can of Coke for you.  
He places it on the dashboard, then he digs into the pizza himself.

“I didn’t have one of these in forever either,” he mutters.

“Still a forbidden thing, eh?”

“Just like that cake you brought,” Kaden laughs. “I can make it up with some extra time in the gym, I guess.”

Working your way through the food, you suddenly look up and meet his eyes.

“I just realized you know everything about my pitiful existence in this town but I don’t know anything about what’s going on in your life.”

He takes a sip from his drink, ponders the question.

“I’m still training, still jumping - trying to make it to Sapporo for the World Cup. You know the drill. That and… well…  
My parents are getting a divorce. Dad turned 70 a few months ago and decided to be a bigger douchebag than ever.”

“Wow. That sucks. I’m so sorry to hear that.” You reach out for another slice of pizza, choosing one with an especially big amount of cheese on top.

“It’s not like I can do much about it. I tried talking to him but he’s convinced he is doing the right thing. Said he wasted too many years of his life already. _Wasted_. His words not mine.”

Kaden grimaces. He squeezes the can of Coke between his fingers until it caves in and makes a popping noise. 

“I also met someone else from way back right about that same time. You know her, too.”

“Really? Another ghost from the past? Who?” 

You can see the uneasiness in his face as his jaw locks for a second.

“Martha,” he presses out. 

“Oh.” An ex. _The_ ex.

Of course, you know about the break-up. Even if you were already gone before it all happened. News from home still travelled to you then.

“You heard what happened between us?” 

“Yes. Not in detail of course but my mom told me you split up shortly after I had left for L.A. So-- you met her again after all this time?”

Kaden nods. “We didn’t really talk after the break up. I mean. I woke up one morning and she was just gone. Never said a word, just disappeared on me. Turns out -- she’s married now, has a daughter.”

“I see.” For want of anything better to say, you take a sip of Coke. 

“She called me and we met up for coffee. I don’t know what I thought. It felt like a date to me but then in the end she’s like. Sorry, I’m married. I knew that. Wasn’t a secret really. Still, I somehow expected something else; I felt like an idiot.”

You frown, wipe your hand on a napkin and reach out to rub Kaden’s shoulder. “You’re not an idiot.”

“Should have stayed away. Instead, I called her again to invite her to my dad’s birthday party. As a friend. She declined of course. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

When you touch him again, he looks up and smiles weakly at you.

“It gets worse. I went to see her one last time in spite of all that.  
She was at the playground, having fun with her daughter. Her husband came to bring her a cup of coffee out in the cold. They all had a good laugh together.  
Then she looked right at me. We stared at each other from across the street for a moment and she turned away as if I didn’t exist. That was it.  
I’m a goddamn idiot, Anouk. No matter what you say.”

There’s a brief pause. 

“At least I have closure now.”

You still caress his shoulder gently when Kaden shakes his head and turns away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you as well. You’ve got enough on your plate already with your mom.”

“Oh hush. I asked what’s going on, didn’t I?” 

Because you don’t know what else to do, you wrap another pizza slice in a napkin and hand it to him.

“Here, that won’t solve anything but it’s delicious. I can vouch for that.” 

Kaden laughs. “Thanks.”

Eventually, you lean back against the headrest of the car seat and stare at the roof.

“I know it sounds stupid but - two people who love each other very much aren’t necessarily a good team. I know me and Matti weren’t. We were bad at being together. I mean really bad. In the end we only ever hurt each other. And when he died I couldn’t cope with the fact that I was so incredibly sad and yet at the same time had that weird sense of what I can only call relief. I thought there was something fundamentally wrong with me.”

“That why you left?” he whispers. 

“Yes. That and I didn’t want to do any of it anymore. The sport, the pressure, the competition. I was done. Being in somebody else’s shadow wasn’t good for me. I didn’t even know what to do with myself. I needed to carve out something entirely new that was only for me, so I started to write, started all over again.” 

You take a deep breath. “Want to know a secret?”

“Sure.” 

“We were getting a divorce, too. Matti and I.”

“Are you serious?!” Kaden stares at you in disbelief. “You, you always seemed so…”

“Happy? Yeah. No. We decided to keep it under a lid until the season was over. So the reporters wouldn’t be all over it. So Matti could do the World Cup Series in peace. And then the accident happened.”

“Fuck. I never knew.” 

“Nobody did,” you admit quietly. “Nobody was supposed to know.”

Kaden is still looking at you; you can feel his eyes scrutinizing your face for clues of what to say.

“We’re both not so very good with letting go of the past, eh?” It’s a quip, his tone of voice suggests but there is truth in it, too. 

Still, you take the cue to lighten the mood.

“Oh, you mean because pizza – or food in general – is not exactly a healthy coping mechanism for past mental trauma and stress?  
It’s true. I’ve been in better shape,” you say and squeeze your thighs for emphasis.

Kaden shakes his head. “I think you’re beautiful. Brave. And strong, too.”

_Oh fuck._ Why does he have to say these things right to your face with such blatant honesty?  
You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and bite your lip just so you don’t say anything stupid now. 

Before either of you can continue the conversation, your phone makes an excited noise.

“Ah, shoot. That’s my mom’s ringtone,” you mutter as you unlock the screen and tap on the message. 

“Everything alright? Should we go back?” Kaden sounds worried.

“It’s – an apology, actually. But yes. I think it’s time to go home anyways. I suppose I have made my point to her.”

The drive back feels much shorter and you spend it in a state of comfortable silence.  
Instead of staring at the scenery outside the car window, you steal little glances at Kaden.  
His eyes are fixed on the road but now and then they wander to look at you for the fraction of a second. 

When the car is parked eventually, you gather the used napkins, the pizza carton and Coke cans together.  
Kaden opens the door for you and relieves you of the trash which he dumps in the garbage cans in front of the house. 

The two of you walk close to each other this time and when you reach his front door, he gives you a smile.

“That’s my stop.”

“Thanks for today,” you say earnestly. “And for everything else as well.” 

Then you turn to leave but at the last moment you stop in your tracks. 

“Kaden?”

“Hm?”

You really want to say something more but the words stick to your suddenly parched throat.

“Goodbye hug?” he asks.

All you can do is nod before you’re caught up in one of those bear hugs you remember only too well from the past.  
He almost lifts you up from the ground and you just close your eyes and enjoy the warmth, arms wrapped tightly around him. 

When he eventually lets go, your phone beeps again.

“Jeez. Mother. I’m almost home.”

Kaden laughs. “You better get going. And hey, if you are in trouble again…”

“…I’ll call. Promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m a cactus trying to be a canoe. / As you pan for ore / In the desert, floored / I say to you / That I could never imagine a place so beautiful / I could never steal your gold away.”  
– R.E.M., _The Ascent of Man_

Anouk: _[Hi…]_

_  
_Kaden: [Hey. :) What’s up?]

Anouk: _[Nothing much… Are you busy right now?]_

Kaden: [Not really. I’m at home cleaning the kitchen.]

Anouk: _[Ha. You could come over & clean ours, too.]_

Kaden: [Enticing. Will I run into your mom again? ;)]

Anouk: _[Nah, mom’s asleep in her room. I thought we could watch a movie…]_

Kaden: [Wait, is this an actual invitation to join you?]

Anouk: _[Yes. Please don’t ring the bell; it’s open.]_

.

The hallway door is ajar and Kaden peeks around the corner into the kitchen area where he spots you making tea.

He waves at you.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” you mutter as you pour steaming hot water from the kettle into a big teapot.

Eventually, you look up to face him.

In the lamplight his short blond hair glistens with melting bits of ice.

“Wow, is it snowing again?”

“Hm? Oh yeah,” Kaden nods, shaking off a few drops of water.

“Tea?”

“Sure. Why not.”

He ambles over to where you stand and puts two books down right in front of you.

You eye your novels suspiciously for a second before finally getting two cups from a shelf.

“Just in case you’re wondering, I actually read them. Liked them, too.”

“That’s nice,” you mumble quietly.

Worry creeps into Kaden’s expression. “Are you okay?” It’s only now that he notices the dark circles under your eyes, the waxy glow of your complexion.

All you can do at first is vehemently shake your head no. No, you’re not okay.

“Mom’s really not that well,” you offer after a while. “She’s resting now but… I don’t know what to do, Kaden.”

“That why you drink tea instead of coffee? For comfort?”

The smile he gives you is sweet and reassuring. He still knows all those little things about you.

“Yes. It’s a bit silly, I guess.”

“Not at all.”

A few more strides and he’s rounded the counter to stand beside you, helps you put the cups and teapot on a tray.

“I thought I should watch a movie to take my mind off things for a while but now I don’t know.” You look up at him, pleading as you grope for the right question in your mind.

“Can you stay with me for a while?”

Kaden’s eyes find yours and he nods. “Of course. That’s why I’m here.”

His kindness hits you hard in the chest all over again. Why is he so generous when you have been so reserved and stubborn for most of the time?

“Come on,” he says, interrupting your train of thought. “Let’s take this party to the living room.”

You settle down next to him and sink into the excessive plush of the baby blue couch. It’s not your style of furniture but it is comfortable enough.

Kaden hands you a mug of tea.

“Careful, hot.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

“So, do you want to talk about what is going on?” he says, one inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“There’s not much to tell. Mom’s reacting badly to the chemo lately. Tiredness, nausea. She can barely keep any food down and has lost most of her hair. The doctor gave her something against the side effects but I don’t think it’s helping much.  
And how would I even know… She never talks to me about it. Pretends everything is fine when it is clearly not. I can see she’s not okay. I can see it.”

You take a sip of tea and stare into the mug. “I suppose there was more to say than I thought.”

Kaden is watching you; you can _feel_ it but don’t dare to meet his gaze.

He casually leans back and puts his arm on the back rest of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, honey bee.”

There’s just the slightest tremble in his voice as the old nickname rolls off his tongue. It’s a long shot but he’s taking it anyway.

The offer stands. You hesitate for the fraction of a second, ready to run. Instead, you put the cup down and snuggle into Kaden’s arms.

He pulls you close and you hide your face against his chest. The woolen sweater is soft against your cheeks; you always liked seeing him in them.

“I’m so tired.”

“I know, bee. It’s okay.” Kaden whispers before placing a soft kiss on your hair.

“No. You don’t understand. I-- I barely sleep at night anymore. I don’t dare to close my eyes. What if I fall asleep and she needs me? What if… what…if… I’m asleep and she _dies_?”

He rubs circles into your back with one hand while you sob against him.  
Gentle fingers caress your wet cheeks to wipe away stray tears.

And suddenly you’re back at sports camp, 18 years old and failing miserably all over again. Sleepless nights. Days of rigorous training. But the harder you push yourself, the worse the results get. At some point coach sends you home temporarily. It’s not punishment they say but it sure feels like it.

Kaden held you then just as he holds you now.

And he’s asking himself the exact same question.  
What if, what if he tilted your head up with his hand under your chin the tiniest little bit? What if he kissed you? Only once. To try it. To see if it is as nice as he thinks it must surely be. Maybe it would make you less sad even.

But that’s what _he_ wants, not what you _need_.  
That’s why he didn’t do it then and he doesn’t do it now.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you hear yourself say, voice muffled by his sweater. You take a deep breath and inhale the familiar scent of fabric softener and wool.

“Because I like you, bee. You used to be my best friend, remember? I could have passed you by in the parking lot a few days ago. I didn’t because I wanted to be there for you. Do you think I bought you that delicious pizza because somebody forced me to? Hm?”

Damn him. Even in this horrible situation he makes you smile.

“No. Of course I don’t think that. I think you wanted an excuse to get pizza. It’s just, you’ve got a lot going on in your life, too. I don’t want to be a burden. You need to ace that World Cup.”

“Okay, one, you’re not a burden. Two, I want you back in my life, Anouk. Don’t shut me out because you think I can’t handle it. I want to get to know you again. Really know you. The person you’ve become. Screw it. Maybe I’m making the same idiotic mistake I made a few months ago with Martha all over but it sure doesn’t feel like it this time. Feels _right_ with you.”

You press against him, can hear his heart race. His breath is warm on your skin.  
Yes, this _is_ right.

“Do you think it’s possible to miss somebody terribly but to only fully realize it once you meet them again?”

“I think that’s exactly what happened when I saw you in that parking lot with your half-soaked groceries,” Kaden whispers.

“So, you’ll stay for a movie, right?”

“I already agreed to that twice, remember? But maybe I could suggest something else.”

You sit back, sniffling. “And what would that be?”

“I choose something to watch and you curl up and sleep. I’ll stay awake and if your mom calls, I’ll wake you up. That way you can be sure you won’t sleep through it if she needs you.”

He gives you one of those lopsided little smiles, biting his lower lip.

“Do you promise? That you won’t fall asleep? And that you will wake me up, yes?”  
The idea of a nap is tempting. Still, you need reassurance.

“Yes.” Kaden raises his hand and puts it on his chest. “I solemnly swear to stay awake and notify you in case of any emergencies.”

“You’re so stupid,” you say and lightly hit him in the shoulder.

“Oh, am I?” He reaches for the remote to switch on the TV. “Come on. Snuggle up and get some shut eye.”

“Okay, will do.” For a second, you’re not sure how to do this the right way but Kaden settles back and pats his thigh so you curl up on the couch beside him with your head in his lap.

His long fingers gently card through your mussed-up hair.

“See not so bad, is it?”

“No,” you admit. “This is… nice.”

While he’s switching channels, looking for an interesting sports event, you close your eyes and try to relax.  
In case something happens, he’ll wake you up. You know he keeps his promises. Always did.

“Ooh, nice. Motocross!” is about the last thing you hear before you nod off.

“Anouk. Hey, honey bee. Sorry, but you gotta wake up.”

A low, familiar voice reaches you through the mists of sleep.

“Your mom called for you, bee.”

“Mhm. I’m awake…”

Two strong hands help you sit up and you stare right into Kaden’s face.

“I’m awake,” you repeat drowsily. “How, how long was I out for?”

“Two hours.”

“Oh.”

For a moment there is silence between the two of you, then your mom calls again from upstairs.

“Anouk? Sweetheart?”

“Coming mom! Just a minute!” you reply and struggle to get on your feet.

“Careful, bee,” Kaden whispers.

You nod. “Yeah. I’m just. Wow. I think I was really out.” You give him an apologetic smile. “Could you, could you maybe wait till I’m back or do you – do you have to leave?”

“Go to your mom, bee. I’ll stay. Promise.”

After you’ve brought your mother some water, you sit down beside her on the bed and watch her sip the cold drink through a straw.

“How are you?”

You touch her forehead with the back of your hand to feel her temperature.

“I don’t think you have a fever but we’ll check again tonight, just in case. Do you think you’ll be able to eat a little something?”

“I’m fine sweetie. There is no need to make such a fuss. I’ll eat dinner with you later.”

She impatiently swats your hand away.

“Besides, it’s time to spill the tea, Anouk. He’s downstairs with you, isn’t he?”

You roll your eyes at her. “MOM! Don’t tell me that’s why you called me upstairs. To ask whether I secretly have friends over. I’m not 16 anymore.”

“Of course, it isn’t. But it’s a much more interesting topic than talking about whether I can stomach some food or not. You have to admit that.”  
She gives you a mischievous wink.  
“Please indulge me.”

“Yes, Kaden is downstairs. He brought the novels back.”

“Oh!” Your mother’s eyes light up. “Did he like them? I bet he did.”

“He said so, yes,” you nod slowly.

“See? Which one did he like best? The third?”

“I didn’t ask, mom.” Exhaustion tints your words.

“Why? Are you feeling ashamed again? Your books are bestsellers, sweetie. People like what you do. You should be proud! I am proud of you.”

Sighing, you take your mother’s hand in yours.

“Right. I’ll ask him for you, okay?”

“Anouk. Dear. You should ask him for yourself, not me.”

She smiles sadly and plants a kiss on your cheek.  
“You don’t value your own successes high enough.”

“I know, mom. I’m just. Very tired right now.”

You mother nods. Her hand squeezes yours.

“I know it’s a lot of pressure on you. I know that…” She trails off, voice breaking.

“Shhh. It’s okay mom. I’ll tell you what. I go downstairs to make some of that noodle soup you like so much for dinner. And I’ll ask Kaden about the books so we have something nice to talk about- yes?”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

When you come back to the kitchen, you find Kaden in the middle of doing the dishes.

He looks up at you with a smile.

“How is she doing?

You shrug and point at the sink.

“It didn’t get worse but she isn’t much better either. And you—you really don’t have to do this.”

Kaden shakes his head. “I wanted to make myself useful while you were gone. It’s fine.”

He puts the freshly cleaned cups aside and immerses the empty teapot in the hot water.

“Mom sniffed us out, you know. Asked me if you are here.”

You reach for a kitchen towel to help drying the dishes.

“Of course, she did,” he chuckles. “What did she say?”

“Wanted to know if you liked my novels. Chided me because I didn’t ask your favorite.”

“Oh. The third in the series. Just like she predicted.”

You stop what you’re doing for a moment and steal a glance at him.

“Why?”

Kaden pauses as well, thinking, then picks up where he left off cleaning the teapot.

“I think you really found your voice by then. I don’t know. The characters seemed more rounded. More relatable. It wasn’t all about the murder mystery but also about the people who solve it. I liked that. Spices things up.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank you. That’s—actually pretty much what mom said when she first read it. Maybe you should stay for dinner to tell her yourself.”

The suggestion is out before you know it.

“I’d love to but I can’t, not tonight. My sister actually invited me and my mother for dinner.”

Kaden takes the towel from you and dries his hands on it.

“Of course.” You shake your head. “It’s a dumb idea anyways. Mom can’t even keep any food down.”

“Hey.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek. “It’s not dumb, okay?”

One more step towards him and you’re back in his arms.

“I have to go now,” he whispers. “I know I said this before but if you need me to help out or if you want to talk you can call day and night. Like the old days, yes?”

“Like the old days,” you confirm.


End file.
